No Longer
by The C
Summary: Buffy's meeting with Angel (post-Flooded). Buffy realizes what and who she really needs. S/B. Buffy POV. Plz R/R.


*~All materials copyright Joss Whedon and Fox, no infringement, yada yada Feedback muchly appreciated. Honest opinions, please~*  
  
*~*~No Longer~*~*  
  
Brown.  
  
That's all I can see, all I can think. I know he is speaking, but we both know I'm not listening. I can see the brown of his eyes, the brown of his coat. That's when I realize that brown has always represented the essence of Angel. Always has, always will. It suits him; his unwillingness to fit into any mold, his ability to blend into any crowd. Brown can be bold or bland, beautiful or mediocre. Brown is an accent color, never used as a scheme and never meant to draw attention.  
  
As I think this, I try to remember why I came. Cohesive thought is not really a priority these days. Just trying to stay strong, trying to put on a brave face for Dawn. None of them, save Spike, know what I'm going through. I don't even know if Spike understands the anger, the pain, the hopelessness. I don't even know if *I* understand it. All I know is that the only two people I can be truly open with are myself and a vampire. Not even a souled one! Not Angel, not my friends, not my sister. I know if tell any of them, especially Angel, they will go all overprotective, and try to fix it, and Angel will make it his life's goal to make my life better, and we both *so* do not need that. We both know that we need to go on with our lives, but sometimes it's so hard. I loved him so much. We were once the center of each other's universes. Well, everything has to end sometime, some things just take longer than others. Neither of us know what we want from the other, but at the same time we do. We want someone to hold us and tell us that everything is gonna be all right. We don't want the emotional baggage that always follows us when we see each other, we just want a trusted friend and confidant.  
  
The only reason I know this is because Spike helped me see it. I don't know why, but he always knows just what's happening in my head, even when I don't. Before I came here, to our "secret meeting place" (yeah, roadside Denny's, big secret there), I had to consult Spike. Seems these days I can't do much without going to the crypt first. I'm not really sure why, it just feels right. I know Spike will never judge or contradict me. When I need a good rant, or just silent company, he's always there. He doesn't even get mad when I mention the "great poof". He knows that Angel is part of my past just as I know mayhem is a part of his. It doesn't mean that I *respect* his former evil ways, or that he *respects* Angel, we just accept each other's past.  
  
Anyway, back to my point (I should really try to keep a straight thought for more than thirty seconds). When I dropped by the crypt, Spike was playing solitaire. You know, solitaire. With a deck of cards. Solitaire. The Big Bad playing cards with himself. Something I never thought I would live to see. I gave him a few minutes to finish his game, then made my presence known. He stopped asking me the reason for my presence at his door a long time ago. I told him I was going to see Angel and asked his advice on how to handle it. When he asked what I wanted my relationship with Angel to be, I couldn't give him a straight answer. Somewhere in my mind I will always love Angel, but not like I did 3 years ago. I don't need the misery that he brings, just the trust. We both agreed on these points, and I made my decision to just think of Angel as a friend, nothing more.  
  
At this point Angel is talking about some sort of gun, or is it a person? Maybe a person who likes guns? Owns guns? Has a gun permanently attached to his arm? After deciding that it probably didn't matter, I interrupted him.  
  
"...and then his gang decides to crash the bar right at that moment, and...." "Angel, can we talk about us?" Yeah, I know, great with the subtlety. So we do. Talk about us, I mean. Us. Wow. Now *there's* a topic. We were the best of couples and the worst of couples. He stalked me, I sent him to hell. No big. Now we've both come to terms with the fact that we have our own lives away from each other. Somehow that doesn't scare me as much as I thought it would. What an ending to epic love. Just friends. We've tried it before, but this time we both actually *mean* it.  
  
After our little chat, we just sit enjoying each other's company. Eventually Angel has to go (a crispy critter doesn't make a very good friend, am I right?) As he walks me to the bus stop, we share one last look into each other's eyes. I know I will see him again, and it'll be different. Things never stay the same.  
  
When the bus finally reaches Sunnydale, my feet take over and I find myself at the doorway of the crypt. Again. I should really learn to control those feet. It's 6 AM but I know Spike won't mind. He never does. He probably wouldn't mind if I barged in while he had company. (Ha. Spike. Company. That's a laugh.) Still playing solitaire, I see. Probably hasn't won a game all night. Ah, to have the patience of the undead. After he gets over being slightly embarrassed that I've discovered his hobby, we sit. Just sit. Me and my former worst enemy, jut sitting and enjoying each other's company. And we understand each other. I don't know if Angel ever understood me. He was always so wrapped up in his "past sins." (I bet he just spent all that time alphabetizing them by size, shape, and color. Poof.) Wait, did I just think that? Waaaay too much Spike time. But somehow I don't mind. There's something comforting about the whole Spike attitude. It makes me feel safe. Angel always thought I was better than him. Spike thinks like we're equals, and acts like it. There's no hiding things from Spike. I like that. Anyway, as I get up to leave (what, you thought I was gonna sit there all day? I've got a sister to take care of! And I'm sure Spike has some kind of important thing to do. Maybe. Or not.), it's not just my feet that have a mind of their own. I go up to him, as if by an unseen force (hmmm what color are unseen forces? If they could be seen, that is. Nevermind) and hug him. I hug Spike. It's not at all like the time I kissed him. That was pity and gratitude. This is real. This hug has emotion. I may not be ready for anything serious, but its nice to have a semi-not-really-relationship with the undead guy next door...or down a few blocks...or, you get the drift already! As I think this I realize I'm still in his arms. He smells good. I never noticed that. The smell of Spike. I wonder if they could bottle it and sell it, because I think every girl should have a guy that smells like this. You know, "Spike, from Calvin Klein." He eventually breaks away and looks into my eyes. Wow. His eyes are everything that Angel's aren't. Blue. The color of confidence and insecurity. His eyes are soft and hard, but overall pleasant. We look at each other for a long time. Me and my oxymoron of a guy. One last hug and I'm gone. But I'll be back. I know it. He knows it. Maybe I'll even teach him how to play b.s. (also known as the best card game ever). He can play it with his demon friends. Or whoever he hangs out with (Ha. Spike. Hanging out. That's a laugh.).  
  
I know we'll never be perfect, but what is these days? I just know that he makes everything all right, and that's just fine. 


End file.
